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The other week we discovered that I am not the only creature about the household prone to insomnia. There’s a resident mockingbird who also sometimes stays up nights. It seems the two of us agree on the worst part sleeplessness, the sheer boredom of it all. I write things, or read things. The bird runs through his entire repertoire. Loudly. For about two hours.
The humans are divided: Is this trait endearing, or is it a sign someone ought to take up middle-of-the-night hunting?
Sooner or later I think the owls will take care of it.
Artwork: John James Audubon [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
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